Man, that 2016 Yankees wild card game hunt? What a ride. Still gives me chills thinking about it. I actually dug through my old scorebook last weekend when my buddy Nate asked about Sanchez’s breakout season. Flipping through those smudged pencil notes brought it all back.
Hunting Down Footage Like A Detective
First things first – I knew MLB vaults the full games somewhere, but my subscription had lapsed. Called up Derek, this dude I used to play softball with who works for YES Network. Made him dig through their archives like a squirrel hunting acorns. Took him two days to email me the condensed version cause their internal search sucks worse than a rookie bunting with two strikes.
While waiting, I pulled my 2016 scorebook off the shelf. Pages were sticking together from spilled coffee stains – saw Bird’s April injury update bleeding into Tanaka’s ERA notes. God, my handwriting looked like chicken scratch. Had to squint at my own damn “K” symbols to count Betances’ sliders.
Reliving Every Sweaty Minute
When Derek’s file finally came through? Plugged the laptop into my ancient TV using that frayed HDMI cable that only works if you twist it sideways. Hit play sitting cross-legged on the floor like a little kid. Froze it every time Sanchez stepped up – his batting stance that season? Looked like he was trying to wrestle bears barehanded.
The moments burned into my brain:
- Top of the 3rd when Gardner made that diving catch near the foul pole. Rewound it six times. Camera angle showed his glove vibrating like a tuning fork.
- McCann’s homer in the 6th – forgot how the sound off his bat cracked like lightning. My neighbor banged on the wall when I yelled “GONE!” way too loud.
- Chapman hitting 103 mph on the radar while I’m stress-eating cold pizza. My dog hid under the couch from all my nervous pacing.
Wrote down every clutch pitch while watching – my notebook margins filled up with nonsense like “HEADLEY CLUTCH AF” in shaky caps. Didn’t help that the cat kept stepping on my pen.
Why This Game Still Sticks
Finished rewatching around 1 AM smelling like pepperoni and regret. Found myself grinning at Girardi’s post-game interview where he kept adjusting his hat nervously. That whole squad played like guys with nothing to lose. Reminded me why I’ll always love baseball – even when your bullpen’s held together with duct tape and prayers, magic happens.
Still got pizza grease on my scorebook pages though. Worth it.